An Elm Creek Quilts Sampler

by Jennier Chiaverini

  At first Sarah sensed skepticism from the students, but to her relief, Mrs. Compson’s wry humor quickly won them over. After discussing quilting’s origins in ancient times through its use as padding for knights’ armor in the Middle Ages, Mrs. Compson moved on to a discussion of quilting in colonial America and in the days of westward expansion. She concluded by describing contemporary quilting from the upsurge in interest sparked by the Bicentennial to present-day quilt artists who incorporate everything from traditional patterns to computer-aided design in their craft. Sarah found the discussion so fascinating that she almost missed a few cues, but she didn’t think anyone noticed.

  When it was over, the students gave Mrs. Compson an enthusiastic round of applause, and she inclined her head and smiled graciously. As class ended and Sarah switched on the house lights, a few listeners approached the stage with questions as the others left the auditorium. Sarah glanced at the stage and, finding Mrs. Compson surrounded by students, decided to use the time to pack up the slides. When she finished she left the projection booth and carried the box of slides to the stage, where Mrs. Compson and Gwen were saying good-bye to one lingering student.

  “That was really interesting, Mrs. Compson,” Sarah said. “You did a great job.”

  “Who would’ve thought that young people would find quilt jokes so amusing?” Mrs. Compson shook her head as if amazed, but she looked pleased.

  Gwen looked pleased as well. “I can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Compson. I think my students got a lot out of your lecture.”

  Mrs. Compson patted her on the arm. “Any time you want me to come back, I’d be delighted to. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

  Sarah noted the remark and tried to keep her features smooth and nonchalant. Inside she felt like shouting with triumph. She couldn’t wait to tell Matt.

  “I’m going to take you up on that,” Gwen said. She walked them to the truck, and as they were about to drive away, she approached the passenger side window and peeked in. She gave Sarah a knowing glance and turned to Mrs. Compson. “Maybe Sarah can talk you into joining the Tangled Web Quilters at our meeting this week?”

  “I’ve tried, believe me,” Sarah said.

  Mrs. Compson pursed her lips. “It’s not the Waterford Quilting Guild?”

  “No. We defected a long time ago.”

  “Very well, then. Perhaps I’ll consider it.”

  Gwen grinned. “Hope to see you there.” She backed away from the window and waved before returning inside.

  Sarah drove them home to Elm Creek Manor.

  “I think that went quite well, don’t you?” Mrs. Compson asked.

  “Oh, definitely. You had them in the palm of your hand.”

  “Well, I was an art teacher once, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t, although I remember you mentioned studying to be one. But I thought you left college.”

  “I did, but I returned to school later and earned my degree. Not at Waterford College, though.”

  Sarah nodded. Mrs. Emberly had mentioned something like that at one of their quilting bees, but she didn’t think she should tell Mrs. Compson that. Not yet.

  Inspired by Mrs. Compson’s successful presentation, they decided to ignore the work waiting upstairs and spent the rest of the afternoon quilting. As Sarah and Matt drove home that evening, she told him about the presentation and, most importantly, the promise Mrs. Compson had given Gwen. “She said any time Gwen wants her to deliver another lecture, she will. That must mean that she’s thinking about staying, right? I mean, how could she give another presentation if she leaves Waterford?”

  Matt nodded, considering. “It could be a good sign, I guess.”

  “You guess? If she feels needed, that’s one more reason to stay, right?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high, honey. I don’t want you to be hurt if things don’t work out.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Well, if that doesn’t impress you maybe this will. She’s also thinking about joining the Tangled Web Quilters.”

  “Does she know Mrs. Emberly is a member?”

  Sarah paused. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “How are you going to work that?”

  “I don’t know.” Sarah frowned and sank back into her seat, deflated.

  They pulled into their parking lot. Matt draped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders as she unlocked the door and went inside. “Sarah, something about this University Realty deal bothers me.”

  “Everything about it bothers me.”

  Matt took off his baseball cap and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about how much it would cost to remodel the interior of the manor so that it could be used for apartments, and frankly, I don’t see how University Realty can hope to make any kind of profit. They’d have to charge incredible rents just to break even, and what college student has that kind of money to throw around? And most students want a place with all the modern amenities and aren’t willing to sacrifice them just to say they lived in a historic mansion. Especially one that isn’t within walking distance of campus.”

  “It never sounded very logical to me, either.”

  “The remodeling costs are only part of it. Tony’s currently working on a similar project but on a much smaller scale, a three-story home near downtown that the owners want to convert into three apartments. You wouldn’t believe all the laws and ordinances he has to follow and all the fees the owner has to pay just to get the place up to local code for rental units.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It just seems to me that it would be more logical for University Realty to buy some land and start from scratch rather than try to make Elm Creek Manor into something it isn’t.”

  Sarah’s pulse quickened. “Maybe that’s what they’re doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe they’re only interested in the grounds, not in the manor itself.”

  Matt’s eyes widened. “You mean tear down Elm Creek Manor—”

  “And start from scratch, just like you said.” Sarah’s thoughts raced as she pictured how many modern efficiency apartments could be squeezed onto the grounds, each one pouring a generous rent into Gregory Krolich’s pocket every month. “That has to be what they have planned.”

  “But that’s crazy. Converting Elm Creek Manor is one thing, but tearing it down is another. Mrs. Compson would never sell knowing Elm Creek Manor would be demolished.”

  “I don’t think she does know. We don’t even know for sure. But think about how carefully Krolich chooses his words. Remember when Mrs. Compson said she was worried that students would trash the place, and he said it would never happen? I bet he meant it will never happen because there won’t be any Elm Creek Manor left for them to trash.”

  “We have to tell her.”

  “Not until we know for sure. I don’t want to upset her.”

  “I can talk to Tony. He’s been in this town a long time and knows everybody in the business.” Matt reached out and stroked Sarah’s head. “Don’t worry. We’ll find out what’s going on and tell Mrs. Compson before she signs anything. It’s her home, and we have to respect her decision even if we don’t like it, but she deserves to know the truth.”

  Sarah nodded. How could she not worry? Only a few moments before, she’d thought she would have Mrs. Compson and Elm Creek Manor all summer, at least. Now she felt as if they were already slipping away.

  Twenty-Three

  The next morning Sarah’s mood did not reflect the bright and pleasant weather outdoors as she trudged from the truck to the back steps of the manor carrying her best blue interview suit on a hanger.

  Mrs. Compson greeted her at the back door with a smile and a glint in her eye. “Let’s go right upstairs and get started, shall we?”

  Sarah had slept poorly, too worried about Elm Creek Manor to rest. To make matters worse, she felt ill prepared for her job interview later that day. She hooked the hanger over the doorknob and returned Mrs. Compson’s cheery greeting ha
lfheartedly. “I wanted to remind you that I have another job interview this afternoon,” she added as she climbed the stairs behind the older woman.

  Mrs. Compson gave a start. “Oh, of course. That’s fine. I’m sure you’ll do well.” She continued down the hall, past the suite they had begun two days before but had not yet finished.

  Sarah hesitated at the door. “Mrs. Compson?”

  “Hmm?” Mrs. Compson turned. “Oh, yes, that. Don’t bother with that room right now. I want you to work somewhere else today.” She resumed her pace, motioning for Sarah to accompany her.

  Sarah trailed after her, wondering what had gotten into Mrs. Compson that morning.

  Mrs. Compson stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall. “This was my sister’s room,” she said, placing her hand on the doorknob. “I admit I’ve put off this suite as long as possible, but yesterday I thought of—well, never mind. You’ll see for yourself.” She pushed open the door and waved Sarah in ahead of her.

  This room had been used more recently than the others. A pink-and-white quilt was spread across the queen-size bed, and a white lamp with a frilly pink shade sat on a bedside table. White eyelet lace curtains stirred in the breeze from the open west-facing window. A small, square quilt of pink, yellow, and white triangles arranged in the shape of a basket hung opposite the bed.

  Mrs. Compson motioned for Sarah to follow her into the suite’s adjoining room. Most likely it had been Claudia’s sewing room, Sarah guessed, noting the sewing machine nearby. It resembled Mrs. Compson’s other machine, except the interlocking pattern painted in gold on the shiny black metal was slightly different, and it was set into a wooden table with a single drawer.

  Mrs. Compson pulled back the chair and gestured for Sarah to take a seat. “What do you think? Like it?”

  Sarah ran a hand over the smooth, polished surface of the table. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It’s yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Consider it an employee-of-the-month bonus. Now, it’s not the same model as mine, but in my opinion it sews just as well. It just isn’t portable because of the table. The light’s on the back of the machine rather than above the needle, but a good lamp at your left will illuminate the area sufficiently.”

  “Mrs. Compson, I can’t accept this. It’s too—”

  “What? Don’t you like it?”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I like it. I love it.”

  “Then take it and be grateful.” Sarah started to speak, but Mrs. Compson silenced her with a raised palm. “Make an old lady happy by accepting her gift in the spirit in which it has been given. Surely you don’t want to insult me?”

  Sarah grinned. “Definitely not. Anything but that.”

  After Sarah dashed downstairs to fetch her Sister’s Choice block pieces, Mrs. Compson showed her how to operate the machine. It had all kinds of attachments whose uses Sarah couldn’t discern, and she soon realized that she could operate the machine better in her stocking feet than with her shoes on, since the foot pedal was actually no more than a single button she could depress with her right big toe.

  Matt surprised them by arriving early for lunch.

  “Look at my new toy, honey,” Sarah greeted him, making Mrs. Compson laugh.

  Matt gave them a tight-lipped smile. “That’s great, Sarah. Mrs. Compson, I hope you don’t mind if I take Sarah to her job interview early? I have a meeting with my boss in town and I can’t be late.”

  “Oh, and we were having so much fun.”

  “I’ll come back after the interview,” Sarah promised. “After all, we should get some work done today, shouldn’t we?”

  With an anxious Mrs. Compson barking out directions and warnings as they went, Sarah and Matt carried the sewing machine downstairs and set it up in the west sitting room opposite the sofa. Sarah changed into her suit and joined Matt in the truck.

  “I don’t really have a meeting, Sarah,” he said as soon as she shut the door. “I had something to tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

  “What is it?”

  Matt started the truck. “Tony checked with a friend in the city licensing department. University Realty has applied for a demolition permit.”

  “For Elm Creek Manor?”

  Matt nodded, eyes fixed on the dirt trail as they drove past the barn into the forest.

  “But they haven’t even bought it yet,” she exclaimed. “How can they apply for permits already?”

  “Tony says the Waterford Zoning Commission can take as long as six months to grant approval to raze historic buildings. Apparently Krolich wants to be able to tear down the place as soon as his check clears.”

  “I can’t believe he’d buy Elm Creek Manor without telling Mrs. Compson what he plans to do with it. We have to do something.”

  “I know.”

  Sarah thought for a moment. “Let’s go see him right now.”

  Matt glanced at her, then quickly returned his gaze to the narrow road. “What about your interview?”

  “We have time.”

  Soon Matt was parking the truck in front of the three-story Victorian building that housed University Realty’s downtown office. Sarah raced up the front stairs as Matt fed coins into the meter. He joined her inside at the receptionist’s desk, where Sarah was asking to see Mr. Krolich.

  “Who may I say wishes to see him?” the receptionist asked as she reached for the phone.

  “Just tell him it’s important.” Sarah craned her neck, trying to see the work space beyond the desk. Men and women in solemn business attire strode though the hallway, but Krolich was not among them.

  “I’ll need your names.”

  “Sarah and Matt McClure. He knows us.”

  The receptionist phoned Mr. Krolich’s office, exchanged a few words, then replaced the receiver. “I’m sorry, but he’s due in a meeting. If you’d like to schedule an appointment he’d be happy to see you sometime next month—”

  Then Sarah spotted a familiar figure. She grabbed Matt’s sleeve. “There he is.” She marched down the hallway with Matt close behind, ignoring the receptionist’s protests. Krolich’s back disappeared around the corner into an office. By the time Sarah and Matt burst in, he had reached his desk.

  He paused only slightly before settling down into the high-backed leather chair. “Hello again, Sarah, Matt.” He gestured toward two chairs facing his desk. “Please, take a seat.”

  “We’ll stand,” Sarah said.

  Krolich shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? Are you interested in that job after all, Sarah?”

  “We want the truth about your plans for Elm Creek Manor.”

  Krolich frowned. “You must realize I can’t discuss confidential business matters with anyone other than my clients and other involved parties. As much as I’d like to help you, well, you can understand the spot I’m in.”

  “Sarah is Mrs. Compson’s personal assistant,” Matt said. “And both of us are her friends. That makes us involved parties.”

  “So you might as well tell us your plans for tearing down Elm Creek Manor,” Sarah said.

  Krolich’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Oh, so you’ve heard about that.” He picked up a gilded letter opener and fingered it. “Tell me, have you mentioned this to Mrs. Compson?”

  “Not yet, but we plan to.”

  “I see.” He returned the letter opener and folded his hands, resting his elbows on the desk. “I was planning to tell her myself, you know.”

  “Yeah, right,” Matt said. “When? Before or after she signed the place away?”

  “If Mrs. Compson wants to sell Elm Creek Manor, that’s her business. Who are you to interfere?”

  Sarah tried to keep her voice steady. “We’re her friends, and we care about her, which is more than you can say.”

  “It’s not that I don’t care.”

  “Then why hide your plans from her?”

  Krolich
sighed. “Are you sure you won’t sit down?” When Sarah and Matt didn’t move, he nodded in acceptance. “Okay. I guess you’re determined to see me as the villain here. But hear me out. I do care about Mrs. Compson. I’m trying to do right by her.”

  Matt snorted. “You have a funny idea of what’s right.”

  Krolich’s expression became earnest. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that she already knows we plan to raze Elm Creek Manor?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No way. She would’ve told me.”

  “Think about it, Sarah. My offer is the only one she’s had, the only one she’s likely to get. If she accepts it, she’s agreeing to have her family home torn down. Do you think she’d admit to knowing that, even to herself?”

  “So you’re saying she’s known all along, and she’s lied to me?”

  “Not exactly. I’m saying she doesn’t want to know.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sarah shot back, but doubt trickled into her mind. She shoved it away. “You deliberately glossed over your plans for Elm Creek Manor because you knew she wouldn’t sell it to you otherwise.”

  “I knew nothing of the sort.”

  “You had to suspect it, at least, or you would’ve told her.”

  “You’re letting sentiment cloud your judgment. Not a good practice for an aspiring businesswoman.” He shook his head as if regretful. “This discussion is getting us nowhere. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to retort, but Matt caught her arm. “Let’s go, Sarah. It’s not worth it.” He gave Krolich a hard look. “Anyway, we got the answers we came for.”

  Krolich frowned but said nothing.

  Sarah and Matt hurried down the hallway, ignoring the stares of Krolich’s employees. “We have to tell her right away,” Sarah said as they climbed into the truck.

  Matt shook his head and pulled into traffic. “Your interview, remember?”

  “That’s right.” Her heart sank. “But what if he gets her to sign something before I’m done?”